


eternity

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Slash, Smut, Superhusbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:11:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1282234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Steve secretly loves Tony's physics jokes, has his way with him against a desk, and wonders about what their future holds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	eternity

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to dedicate this one-shot to Brittany, Jesse and Parnika, who encouraged me to write this.
> 
> A few things: this is unbeta'd, as usual. This was originally supposed to be a PWP piece, however, I got sidetracked and made it slightly more meaningful — which happens, most of the time — so, yeah. I'd have made it longer, but plotless smut isn't my forte. Hope it's still enjoyable.

‘Tony —’

‘So, a neutron walks into a bar, and —’

Steve groans. ‘Why are you telling me jokes now? Of all times?’

‘You love my physics jokes.’

‘I do, but not when I’m about to —’

‘Give me a dicking of a lifetime?’ He waggles his eyebrows. ‘Which, I must say, feels great against the wall. Oh, lighten up, Steve. I’m just trying to fire up the mood.’

His voice is muffled against Tony’s neck. ‘It’s not firing up the mood, it’s hosing it down.’

Slipping his leg up to wrap around Steve’s waist, he grinds up against him; the hem of his t-shirt rides up as he does so, skin scraping against the wall, and he moans, a choked, breathy noise, which causes the bulge against his leg to harden. ‘Your cock says otherwise.’

‘That’s because,’ he grinds out, his hands tightening on Tony’s hips, ‘you’re pressed against me, not because of your jokes.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I do say, but how about enough talking for now?’

Tony smiles, hand trailing down Steve’s back. ‘Admit it, you love it when I talk about science — you’re like an excited student who wants to sit at the front row, just to hear me ramble on about water resistant materials or electrical engineering. In fact, I think it gets you a little hot under the collar.’ His fingers brush over the faint blush along Steve’s cheeks. ‘See? It’s like our way to talk dirty.’

‘Well —’ Shuddering when Tony mouths his neck, the heat of his blush almost burning his skin, he releases a shaky breath. ‘I guess it’s not all bad.’

‘Ah, for once, I’m right. Y’know, it feels pretty good; it levels with the image of you bent over my desk.’

‘Maybe that image would come true if you stopped talking for more than one minute.’ He runs his finger over the exposed sliver of skin on Tony’s back. ‘How else are we supposed to make love when I can’t get anything in edgeways?’

‘One: making love? Permission to find that the cutest thing ever, and two: you’re right, I need you to get that delicious —’

Steve crushes his lips against Tony’s, surging up, a whirl of furious need taking over, and he lifts Tony up, encouraging him to wrap his legs around his waist. It successfully makes him shut up, any responses those from his body or an incoherent, messy string of words, and even when he manages to gain enough air in his lungs to say something, it breaks off with a choked moan when Steve bites down on his bottom lip. 

He doesn’t end the kiss as he steps back, his legs connecting with the edge of the desk. He stumbles trying to settle down, clutching onto Tony’s hips to stop him from falling off his lap, which apparently doesn’t faze Tony in the slightest as he only tilts his head, deepening the kiss. He slides a hand under the hem of Steve’s t-shirt, across his stomach, his fingers skimming just below the waistline of his pants; Steve sucks in a breath — despite it only being a ghost of a touch, but it sends electricity through his veins — and releases it in a shuddering moan. 

Pulling back, but grinding down, Tony murmurs, ‘You like that, huh?’

‘No,’ he shakes his head, a brief smile lighting up his face, and tugs down on Tony’s hips, the friction sending another shooting of pleasure up his back. ‘Can’t you tell?’

Tony reaches down, laying a hand over the bulge in Steve’s pants. ‘Yeah, seems like you absolutely hate it.’

‘So much,’ he mumbles against his lips. 

Rolling them over so Steve hovers over him, Tony yanks his shirt apart, struggling to pull it off before throwing it to the floor. Steve has seen him naked plenty of times, whenever they’ve done it in a broom closet during recess, or in his art classroom in the after school hours, but it’ll always have the same affect of him each time; a heat that spreads across his skin, itches, burns, until it’s thoroughly sated. 

Which takes a few times. Not once, or twice, sometimes more than three before Steve collapses in exhaustion. And Tony, as wonderful as he is, tries to keep up — though he can’t manage as much, a deep disappointment in himself, but Steve doesn’t mind — and takes Steve apart in any way he can, whether it be with his hands, mouth or cock. Slowly, intimately, taking up to hours, into the night, to show how much he loves the taste of his lips, the ghost of breath against skin, feel of his heart beating against his palm, and just to listen to the way Steve whispers his name as he comes apart, or in his dreams. 

And it is love, Steve likes to think, not just a bit on the side, like when it first started. He’d been the new art teacher at the school, and he’d gained an instant interest in Tony, the physics teacher. Months had passed before Tony made the first move, ahead of Steve, and kissed him. It was silly to do it right there in his office, but thankfully, no students were present, what with it being seven in the evening. There were few times where they’d taken the risk of fooling around during the day, but when they’d nearly been caught, Steve drew the line that only before or after hours it could happen — well, that isn’t necessary anymore, as after a year, their feelings came into question, and mutually agreed to try a committed relationship. Tony had been reluctant, explaining his issues, but he proved them wrong by moving in with Steve. 

What else is in their future they choose to leave in the unknown. 

‘C’mon, Steve —’

‘I need to prepare you —’

‘No, you don’t, I’ll be fine.’

He snorts. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘But, Steve —’

‘I said no.’ He emphasises it with a light nip to Tony’s neck. ‘What’s made you so impatient?’

‘We haven’t slept together for ages.’

Steve raises an eyebrow. ‘It’s been six hours.’

‘Uh, yeah. That’s half of twelve, which is half of twenty-four, which is a day. Jeez, Steve, learn your math.’

‘You’re an idiot.’

Leaning up, Tony kisses him, hard, leaving his lips reddened and sore. ‘But I’m your idiot.’

The rest of their clothes are discarded across the floor and furniture, and the room feels hotter, stifling almost, as if a reaction from the exposure of skin. With swollen lips and sweat slicking their bodies — flushed red, and a vein throbbing on Steve’s jaw from the hard clench — makes it impossible to function, yet waiting for this moment has been worth it. 

All he can hear is his own breathing, harsh and heavy, and he sucks in another when Tony reaches down and gives him one, firm stroke. 

He bites his lower lip to stop himself from making loud sounds, but fails, a stuttered, shaky groan crawling up his throat. The strokes are slow, teasing, and dry, but that doesn’t matter, it’s far from uncomfortable. His hips pulse in time, the edge of the desk and strain of his muscles beginning to stab at that comfort, but he doesn’t stop, can’t stop, not when he’s close. Tony knows exactly how to pick Steve apart, with the right amount of pressure and rhythm, driving him to near insanity with the endless giving and pulling away, left on the edge. 

‘Don’t, not yet,’ Tony says, almost growls. It has a hint of a rasp to the command, and it encourages his release, pushing him closer towards the end. His palms sweat against the wood, nails digging into his skin. 

It’s like this most times; a game of whether or not Steve can hold. He does, by a slim chance, and they both know he can, but Tony likes to see the trembles in Steve’s thighs, or trickle of sweat down his temple, or when Steve is moments from begging, to say Tony’s name in desperate plea — it’s only when he is shaking, uncontrollable, and his vision is blurred from sweat or tears (he can’t tell the difference), that he finally shatters. 

A whine rips from his chest, and Tony stops, scrambling to find the lube and condoms, hidden in one of his drawers. 

He prepares himself in a few seconds, and the next thing he knows he’s swallowed by a heat, Tony arching up into his touch. Tony reaches up to tangle his hand in Steve’s hair, in a loose fist, enough to let him know that, although he’s bottom, he can still take control. It moves down, clasping around the back of Steve’s neck, hard, as he speeds up his thrusts, careful not to scrap the desk legs along the floor. 

It doesn’t take long for — with one final thrust and kissing him for all his worth — Steve to come, panting so much his lungs scream for him to calm down. Tony follows, the only warning his hand tightening, and it’s sharp, but when he cries out and surges up to hold onto Steve for dear life, it’s an achievement. 

Catching himself as his arms weaken, he rests his forehead against Tony’s, waiting for the wave of dizziness to disperse. He pecks his lips, trailing lazy kisses along his skin. ‘Well, that was —’

‘Just as amazing as you were expecting?’ Tony supplies, arms belted around Steve’s back.

‘Bit of an exaggeration.’ 

He gapes. ‘Rude. No more sex for you.’

‘I can cope with that. Can you?’

‘Of course.’

Steve nods, lifting off him. ‘If you’re sure, might as well get back to work —’

‘No —’ At little too roughy, he pulls Steve back down. ‘I was kidding, honey, as if I could go without sex.’

‘I think you could do it.’

‘No, nope. Definitely not.’

‘You sure?’ Steve says, tilting his head. ‘It could do you good.’

‘What I’m sure about is that I need sex. I wish to have sex everyday. For the rest of my life. Even when I’m so old I can’t stand, I’m sprouting grey hairs and my balls are sagging —’

Steve screws his eyes shut, cringing. ‘Yeah, okay, got it. Wish granted.’

With a smile, Tony tugs him down for a kiss, softer than any other they’ve shared today. ‘Most of all, I want everyday, for the rest of my life, to be with you. If, y’know, you’re open to eternity and can stand me.’

He kisses him again. ‘I think I can do that.’

It might’ve been considered a proposal, but it isn’t, and he knows that, but it’s enough of a promise of something later on; maybe, more would come. It doesn’t need to be in a few months, or even years, hell, it could be when they’re sixty years old and he wouldn’t mind. Just knowing this is the hint of building a future, is all he needs. It really, _really_ is. 

And the future might be in the unknown, but it looks pretty great from here.


End file.
